


When you Crash into Destiny

by bluedandelions



Series: Of The Shadows [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:06:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4638507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedandelions/pseuds/bluedandelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way she had met one Sherlock Holmes was possibly a coincidence… But maybe not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you Crash into Destiny

The adrenaline of a post case high was still pumping through their veins, their pulse racing and the elation of a win blasting through their minds, as they ran down the alley to reach the restaurant, the Chinese one near Baker Street. The one Sherlock claimed was good because of bottom third of their front door.

Pushing the door open they found the place more than half empty, but that was not a surprise seeing as it was the wrong side of midnight that they'd reached it. They made way to their table, flagging down their regular server, signing for the usual post case victory dinner. Sitting down with their order complete, they wound down.

Sherlock stopped vibrating with energy to just, having that energy simmering beneath the surface. His Pulse was the most fascinating when he was like this, not the brilliantly chaotic rushing of the highs of the case or the sweetness of his violin playing, when he was in the mood for music, or the dark thrill of his anger, but the quietly swirling depths that only came out when he had finished a case, a good one.

The colours of his Pulse flowing beautifully along with his thoughts, they were more streamlined now, his Pulse echoing that. Her Pulse slowed down to match Sherlock's, but a little differently, watching his Pulse, hers became still like the surface of a lake with occasional ripples that a breeze would cause, the breeze being something she saw in Sherlock's Pulse.

Just watching his Pulse like this reminded her the first time she'd felt his Pulse, actually, viscerally felt it. Just thinking about it brought back the sense memories of it. Mike had just led her through Barts, giving her a quick re-tour of the hospital, showing her what was different. She'd been distracted the whole time, because something had been pinging on the back of her Pulse. When Mike had finally led her down the corridor to the lab, where she would meet Sherlock, her Pulse had started twitching, for the lack of a better word, spreading out around her, then quickly snapping back into her, like it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to do. The feeling she'd been having all through the tour of Barts, hit her a little stronger now, as she followed Mike into the lab.

The introduction was pretty one sided. Mike didn't bother introducing the tall, pale man to me. Just introduced me and then left it at that. Irritation had swelled inside her at the misogynist treatment, then he started speaking and her Pulse went crazy. It started as though it would reach out and touch that strange man's Pulse. So while struggling to control her rogue Pulse, she lost a little of what was being said to her, something about violins, not talking and flatmates?

So as soon as she had wrestled her Pulse under control, she had felt a little clueless. So she gone with the classic clueless act. So then this strange man did his little monologue, that was not actually little, blabbered some more, then told me his name was Sherlock Holmes, along with the address of the flat. Then he had the audacity to wink at me as he left. Stunned I'd looked at Mike, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. But the curiosity, about him and absolutely odd brilliance had filled me, given me something interesting to finally think of. She was sure that was when she'd decided that she would meet him.

Next day, she had seen the flat, then been whirled along with him to the crime scene, followed by being kidnapped by his brother (of course I knew they were brothers, that was obvious even to her), then followed the mad man to where Sherlock had gone along with the cabbie. The blast of his Pulse when she'd reached the vicinity of the college had stunned her into silence. She'd never felt anything quite like it. His Pulse was all over the place as though, it had finally the space to move around freely. The vibrant rays of every colour that ever existed swirling through and around the building, she could barely make out the weak Pulse of the dying cabbie.

Then suddenly his Pulse simply subsided as though it had never flared like that. Panic eating at her stomach she had run up the stairs, frantically searching until she saw them throughout the window, both clutching the pills between their fingers raising it to their lips. Time had literally slowed down she as took aim, and grabbed at the cabbie's Pulse with her saiwala. Clawing a hold onto it, she felt his life's streams run through her projection, knowing his story upto the point where Sherlock appeared into his mind. She invaded further, going deeper, pulling at the streams of his conscious, pushing them further apart looking for what she wanted, a name, a face, something. She found it just as she opened her eyes and saw Sherlock about to swallow the pill. Automatically, time sped to real time, and the bullet left her gun for the cabbie's body.

She saw Sherlock jump then at the sound of the bullet, whirling to see who had fired, but being cloaked as she was he couldn't see her and saw him questioning the cabbie, Jefferson Hope, well demanding to know who had sent him. Sherlock heard the name Moriarty, whereas she knew, just knew that Moriarty was more than a name, she had felt the Power when Sherlock had whispered that name reverently, like invoking the Silent.

Just like that she'd known that she was meant have met him, met Sherlock Holmes like the Ancient One had ordained it. She came back to herself when she realised that Sherlock had asked her something, fishing at front of his Pulse, she realised he was asking if she was okay. Smiling at him, she told him that she was just fine, in fact she was more than fine, she was great. Not that Sherlock would get that reference, he was really quite clueless about certain things. But that was also quite adorable so she let him be himself like was meant to be. She would just help when he needed her or sometimes even when he didn't need her. After all one didn't just meet their destiny every day, did they?


End file.
